


Three Favours

by tygermine



Series: Dramione Drabbles [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Party, Co-workers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28173015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: Draco asks Hermione for help and offers three favours in exchange.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione Drabbles [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641019
Comments: 12
Kudos: 197





	Three Favours

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to procrastinate and because I felt like a fic of my favourite tropes.
> 
> Beta'd with a GnT and Grammarly.
> 
> As usual, if you spot any mistakes, feel free to contact me to fix them.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Granger, I have a proposition that you can’t say no to, and if you do, I’ll have to bribe you until you say yes.”

Malfoy had breezed into Hermione’s office, causing her to jerk in surprise, leaving a splotch of ink on her carefully drafted policy she had to present to the Wizengamot the first week of the new year.

“The answer is already no,” she cut him off, reaching for her wand to remove the ink stain. It wasn’t in its usual spot, causing her to dig around her desk, lifting parchments in case it was underneath.

She heard Malfoy sigh in exasperation, walk right up to her desk, lean across it and pull something from her hair that was piled up on the top of her head in a messy bun. He lowered his arm, revealing her wand. He handed it to her before dropping rather dramatically if you ask her into one of the seats facing her desk.

“Hear me out, please Granger.”

Hermione removed the ink with a wave of her wand and absentmindedly placed the wand back in her hair as she picked up a quill to continue her policy composition.

“I’m not going to leave until you at least hear what I have to propose.”

“That’s a pity.” Hermione sighed and lowered her quill and looked at Malfoy.

He wasn’t as put together as she was used to seeing, which is quite often seeing as how they have offices across the passage from each other.

“Every year my parents host a Yule Ball-”

“No.”

“- and every- what do you mean no? I haven’t even asked you yet.”

“Oh, you don’t need to. I already know. I need to go with you to pretend to be your date so that your mother can stop setting you up with every eligible witch in the country and the continent.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “You’ve been complaining about this exact thing since last Yule and I’m surprised you haven't suckered one of the interns to cover for you by now.”

Malfoy’s eyes first widened then narrowed during her explanation.

“Besides,” she said, leaning forward and picking up her quill. “It’s not as if anyone would actually believe that we’re together at the ball. Half of England has been witness to our screaming matches in the Chambers.”

“And here I thought you were just prolonging our foreplay.” He had the audacity to punctuate this with a salacious wink.

She tossed a scrunched up piece of parchment at his face. “Go away Malfoy. I have too much work to do and not enough days to get it done.”

“Okay, amended proposal,” he cleared his throat. “Come to the Yule ball as my friend, help me fend off the witches my mother has invited and in return, I will help you draft all your policies for the next six months without any comment on them.”

“You’ll be complaining by Valentines Day.”

“About the policies or Valentines Day itself?”

Hermione tilted her head as if mulling over her answer. “Both,” she decided.

Malfoy nodded. “I can see that,” he agreed begrudgingly. “Come on Granger, what must I do to get you to agree? Name your price.”

“You’ll owe me three favours that I can cash in at any time, for any reason over the next year.”

“You answered that far too quickly,” objected Malfoy.

Hermione shrugged. “Those are my terms. If you don’t like them, well, I hope you and your mother’s choice of bride live a happy and fertile life.”

The image her words conjured make him break into a cold sweat. The imaginary wedding ring on his finger felt like it weighed a ton and he was already developing a headache from the cries of his imaginary children as they kept him awake at night.

“No, I agree. I will owe you three favours that you can claim at any time for any reason. Shall we make it official with an Unbreakable Vow?”

“Now you’re just overreacting. I’m not going to ask you for an internal organ or anything that ridiculous. I’ll meet you here at seven o‘clock. We can Floo in together.”

Malfoy smiled so widely, he looked slightly deranged. “Thank you, Granger. You have no idea how much you’re helping me out here. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Hermione should have known things were not going to be as easy as she’d first assumed. Her first clue was his manic smile.

* * *

The second clue was his nervous fidgeting when she arrived the next evening just before seven at the Atrium of the Ministry.

He kept running his hand over his hair and along his lapels as if checking they were both still there. Malfoy jumped in surprise when she walked up behind him, despite her high heels echoing throughout the area.

“It’s just a party,” she tried to calm him down. “One of many you’ve had at your parent’s house.”

“I keep having this feeling like I’m going to meet my fate in the worst possible way.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic, Malfoy. Come on. Deep, slow breaths.” She smiled as he followed her directions. “I’ll even make you leave after half an hour if you want. Just give me the signal and I’ll cause a distraction for you to sneak out.”

“We don’t have a signal,” he said, between gulping down lungfuls of air, on the edge of a panic attack.

She lightly took hold of his earlobe and tugged on it. “That’s our signal. Now, shall we go?”

Malfoy nodded in jerking motions and offered her his elbow as they stepped through the Floo. Of course the Malfoy’s would have a multiple person-sized Floo channel.

* * *

House-elves met them as they stepped through the Floo, hovering trays of champagne for the guests. 

Hermione took two glasses and offered one to Malfoy, who knocked it back as if it were a cheap shot of tequila. She gave him her glass to replace it and took another one from the tray.

“Right, let’s find your parents, say hello, merry yule and then leave. Okay?”

Malfoy seemed frozen in his spot and Hermione gently poked him in the ribs with her elbow. He blinked rapidly and looked at her. “Yes, right. Parents, Yule, leave.”

With his hand on her lower back, they stepped down the steps into the crowded ballroom. They didn’t get very far before they were stopped by witches and wizards they knew, exchanging yuletide greetings.

“Draco!” Hermione turned at the sound of a woman’s voice and spotted Narcissa heading towards them through the crowd, a good looking witch trailing close to her. She turned to Malfoy, grabbed his bicep and pulled him towards her.

“You need to kiss me, right now,” she whispered.

He did so without questioning her which was the third clue that something wasn’t right. That was her last coherent thought as his kiss began to have some sort of effect on her mental functions. 

No one should be that good of a kisser. His lips were soft and his tongue lightly pushed against her own lips until they parted causing her to playfully nip at it. His arms pulled her closer and she felt a slight cramp develop in her calf muscles as she stood on tiptoe. 

“Draco?”

The voice sounded far away, yet very annoyed. Hermione didn’t like people being annoyed at her, so she forced herself to concentrate. She pulled away from the kiss and it felt like a wave pulling back into the ocean, allowing the full sensory assault of the ball to hit her.

By the looks of Draco, he was experiencing the same thing.

“Draco, dear?” Narcissa’s tone was dripping with cyanide at this point.

“Ah, mother.” Draco blinked and quickly in minute movements pulled himself together and leaned over to give her a kiss on her cheek as one does with one’s mother in polite company. “You’re looking lovely this evening,” he continued to butter her up. “Have you done something different with your hair?”

“Thank you, dear,” Narcissa gave him a tight smile then turned her gaze towards Hermione. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a...friend?”

Draco slid his arm further around Hermione’s waist, pulling her against him so suddenly, she nearly lost her already precarious balance in her high heels. “Ms Granger is hardly what one would call a friend, mother.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow in a way Hermione had seen Dra-Malfoy do many times a day.

“Is that so?” Narcissa’s smile stayed in place, but her eyes were starting to threaten a storm on the horizon. “And what are you calling Ms Granger these days?”

Malfoy smiled and glanced at Hermione for a moment before licking his lips and uttering “Hot stuff.” 

“And in public?” Narcissa seemed to be gathering evidence with which to show to the jury when they arrest her for his murder.

“Sugar lips,” Malfoy said smoothly.

Hermione didn’t know whether to hide her head or laugh it off at his antics.

“No, I call you sugar lips,” she felt herself adding to the conversation. “You call me-”

“The love of my life, yes, indeed, it is a mouthful,” he cut her off.

“Well, so’s your-” she began and found herself being kissed again.

The plan, if one is feeling generous enough to call it that, seemed to have worked and Narcissa gave Malfoy a disapproving frown before pretending to spot an acquaintance across the room and ushered the witch she’d planned to introduce to Draco with her.

Not that the two really noticed. 

The kiss meant to merely stop a slip of the tongue had turned into tongues slipping against each other.

Fingers curled into the material, bunching it tightly against flesh.

A house-elf popped up next to them, took hold of Hermione’s dress and popped them out of the ballroom and into Draco’s childhood bedroom.

The change of location barely had any effect on them as they continued to kiss.

Eventually, Malfoy pulled his lips away, breathing as if he’d run a marathon.

“Mission accomplished,” he panted out. “Well done Granger. I owe you as per our deal.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Excellent.” She pushed her swollen lips together into a tight line.

Neither could find the will to step away and they stayed in each other’s arms until Hermione swayed back far enough in her heels that she had to step back in case she fell over.

The moment around them burst like a bubble and they found themselves adjusting their clothes, smoothing down their hair and clearing their throats awkwardly.

“Can I...are you going to stay here?” Hermione finally asked, gesturing towards the fireplace in his room.

“That’s not connected to the Floo,” he said. “We’ll have to use the one downstairs.”

“If we go down now, people will talk.”

He shrugged. “They’ll talk anyway.”

“Yes, but now they’re in shock about our kiss. If we go down now, they’re going to make assumptions about your...um…” she waved her hand towards his crotch. They both ignored the erection outlined by his tuxedo pants.

“Right. Good point.” He sat down on his bed and finally took her in. “I must say, Granger, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but you do clean up rather well.”

She looked down at her red dress. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it had a mid-calf 50s full skirt that she adored. Hermione looked back at Malfoy and shrugged.

“I know.”

“Why don’t you dress up all the time?”

“Because wearing heels does not make me a better lawyer, Malfoy.” She rolled her eyes at him.

Wisely choosing to not pursue the subject, Malfoy rubbed his palms on his thighs and bit his lip. Hermione went tot he window and looked out over the estate. The moon was a bare crescent in the sky.

“How do you not have a way to sneak out of your room?” She turned to him.

“I do, but you’re not going to like it.” He gestured towards the window where she stood.

“I’m assuming the anti apparition wards are still active.”

“Mother keeps them active all the time, especially for parties after that one year we had the press all over the front garden scaring the peacocks.”

“But surely you can apparate?”

He stood up from his seat on the bed. “I could, but your wards will cut me to pieces.”

“The joys of being paranoid,” she said dryly. “Right, well, I really want to go home. Have you a spare broom and cloak?”

Malfoy shuffled in place for a moment before going to his bedroom cupboard and finding an old winter cloak. He pulled two out and put one on whilst handing the second to Hermione.

“I’ll fly us.”

His tone did not invite argument, so Hermione bit her tongue. Not that she really wanted to argue anyway. She hated flying on broomsticks and was sure she’d get lost anyway.

He had her mount the broom in front of him and pulled her against his chest, his arms bracketing her safely.

“Just close your eyes and you’ll be home before you know it,” he whispered and kicked off into the night sky.

The wind stung her nose and cheeks as they sailed through the air. Hermione kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the chest and arms keeping her in place and safe.

Before she knew it, they landed in the tiny back yard of her cottage in Hampstead.

Malfoy’s face was flushed from the cold and before she could stop herself, Hermione invited him in for some hot chocolate.

He smiled at her invitation and followed her into the cottage.

“I’ve a confession to make,” said Malfoy a little while later as they waited for the kettle to boil. 

“Is that so?” Hermione said ina light tone, almost scared of what he might confess.

He nodded. “I must confess that ...well… I imagined far more books in your house.”

Hermione let out a laugh of surprise. “I can’t keep them in the kitchen. They’re upstairs in my office.”

“Oh.”

“Would...I mean...do you want to see them?” Hermione suddenly felt shy about the little cottage that she was usually very fond of. “It’s not a big cottage, but I like it.”

“It’s already far more charming than my flat,” Malfoy confessed.

“I’m sure it’s twice as big as this,” she replied softly.

“It does tend to echo,” he said matching her volume.

They’d somehow gravitated towards each other until they stood within inches of the other.

“Sounds lonely,” she said, licking her lips.

“It is. Why else do you think I spend so many hours at the office?”

“Free coffee?”

“Exceptional company.” He whispered this against her lips before lightly rubbing them against hers as if waiting for permission to kiss her again.

She pulled away. “Wait.”

He stepped back as if thrown with a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’m sorry. I should-”

“No. Stop. I just need to take off these bloody shoes before I lose a leg.” She sat down in a kitchen table chair and undid the thin straps around her ankle.

“Oh, well, in that case, let me help.” He knelt down and carefully undid the strap of her other shoe, throwing it over his shoulder and placing a soft kiss on her ankle.

“Right, upstairs,” she instructed, pushing at his shoulders for him to stand. As she pushed off her seat, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in for a kiss. His hands ran down her waist, over her bum and grabbed her thighs to lift her, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist.

“So I can kiss you without hurting you,” he explained at her confused expression.

With the occasional bump into a piece of furniture and nearly tumbling down the stairs, Malfoy finally got Hermione into her room. His shirt was pushed down his arms to the elbow, chest exposed to her wandering hands. His shoes had been kicked off near the landing and his belt was probably lying on the floor of the passage.

Her skirt was bunched up around her waist with the zipper at the back undone as well as the clasp of her bra.

He lowered her onto her bed and peeled the dress and bra from her arms, leaving her chest exposed. He leaned down and took a nipple between his teeth, gently sucking and rolling the hardened nip until Hermione let out a lusty moan. 

His hands pulled her skirt down to her knees, allowing her to kick it off the rest of the way, leaving her only in her cotton bikini bottoms. 

She pushed him to his feet, sitting up on the bed, her legs handing over the edge and began undoing the button and zipper of his pants while he shed his shirt, not really caring if he ripped it. Especially when Hermione Granger was currently mouthing at his erection through his silk boxer briefs and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

He didn’t know where to touch first until Hermione took one of his hands and placed it on her head. She leaned back a little. “You can pull it, but not too hard,” she instructed him.

“I can say the same for you,” he laughed, tilting his pelvis towards her. 

She pinched him lightly on the inside of his thigh before pulling his briefs down and licking along his cock from the base to the tip.

“Fucking hell, Granger,” he exclaimed, his knees shaking slightly and his fingers tightening in the curls as he clung to sanity.

She took him in her mouth and hummed as the head hit the back of her throat. With one hand, she jerked him off, whilst the other cupped and massaged his balls. 

He locked his knees, too scared to move, feeling her mouth move over his cock with its velvety heat. Her tongue was tracing patterns into the thin, soft skin there.

She let go of him and ran her hands up his thighs and around to cup his arse, squeezing hard before letting her fingers drift towards the cleft of his butt. They then trailed along the seam down to where his butt met his thighs, fingertips tickling the inside of his thighs until they reached the back of his knees.

No one had ever touched him so sensually before. It left him breathless and close to coming.

He extracted himself from her mouth and placed a kiss on her swollen lips on his way to his knees. 

“Lie back, my love,” he said, bringing her legs up to rest on his shoulders, pulling her hips towards his face.

He nuzzled along her folds with his nose then repeated the journey with his tongue. He blew softly on her entrance, enjoying the way her thighs shook on either side of his head. Draco leaned in and pushed his tongue into her opening, licking around the walls, then pushing his tongue against her clitoris. He then wrapped his lips around her folds and sucked, his tongue gently massaging against the sensitive flesh, her juices flowing down his chin.

Merlin, he could spend hours there.

Her thighs clamped against his head like a vice as he kept licking and sucking, feeling her hips undulate, chasing her orgasm until he felt it run over his mouth and cheeks. The grip on his head fell away as her legs opened bonelessly. He raised his head, licking a path along her inner thighs and raised an eyebrow at her heaving chest. Her face was flushed and she had an arm thrown over her eyes. She looked down at him with a smile.

“Shut up,” she said.

He stood up, wincing slightly at the creak in his knees and climbed onto the bed on all fours, leaning over her.

“I didn’t say anything,” he shrugged.

“Your whole face is just so smug right now.”

“Well, I mean, I am wearing you orgasm all over my face.”

“If I could move, I’d...I don’t know… do something to you.” She waved her hand limply at him.

“Is that so?” He murmured, kissing a trail from her neck down her body to her hip, across her bellybutton and back up the other side. When he reached her face, he paused to look in her eyes.

They were hooded and dilated. But mostly, they were gorgeous.

“You don’t have brown eyes,” he said.

“Who cares what colour they are right now? Just, come here,” she took his cheeks in her hands and pulled him down for a kiss. Her hands ran down his back, pushing him down onto her, cradling his hips between her legs. As she kissed him, she tilted her hips and caught the tip of his still erect cock. Her hands strayed down to his arse and she deftly pushed on it, giving him the permission to slide into her. He broke their kiss and muttered a heartfelt “Fuck.”

“Yes. Please do,” she said, rolling her hips against him, using his cock and trying to get him to remember how to use it himself.

He pushed up onto his elbows and braced his knees for the right angle.

“I’m embarrassed to admit that this is not going to be as long as you’d like.”

“I’ve already had an orgasm, I’m not greedy for a second. Now it’s your turn. And Malfoy? Hard. Okay?”

Who was he to disobey an order like that and he set a rhythm that he knew he was going to regret in the morning, but at that moment, feeling her tighten around his shaft as sped up his thrusts, pushing up against her with a tilt of his hips made it all worthwhile. He moved a hand to rub at her clit, but she moved it away. 

“Keep doing this,” she replied between clenched teeth. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back and she arched her back, rubbing her breasts against his chest. “Yes,” she chanted. “Harder. Fuck.” 

“Dammit, Granger. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Only la petit mort,” she joked breathlessly.

“Oh fuck you,” he gasped in surprise at what her speaking French did to him. His hips stuttered and he felt himself speed up, chasing his la petit mort when Granger did something with her hips that sent him into that release. He dropped his head into the curve of her neck and felt himself sink onto her completely. He lifted his head. “Sorry, I’ll move-”

“Shhh,” she wrapped her arms around his ribs and held him in place. “I like this.”

Like that, Malfoy fell asleep.

* * *

“That was a lot of fun,” Hermione smiled like a Chesire cat the next morning over toast and tea at her small kitchen table.

Draco couldn’t help but return her smile. “It was,” he agreed. “I’d like to do that again if you’re up for it?”

“I’m surprised you can still get it up after you woke me twice last night.”

“Are you honestly complaining about being bestowed orgasms?”

“I should complain about you using the words bestow and orgasm in the same sentence.” She took a sip of her tea. “I mean, I don’t see the harm in it, seeing as how by this morning, I suspect we made the front page of the Prophet.”

Draco buttered his slice of toast and smiled. “I also happen to know of a very conveniently situated cupboard on our floor that we can use.”

“We’ll have to give it a try in the new year.”

“And until then?”

Hermione pointed at a glass jar on her kitchen counter. “I have a jar of candy canes and I’d like to find new ways to enjoy them.”

“Tea first, you incorrigible woman, then more orgasms. I’m completely dehydrated.”

The smile they shared over the table held all sorts of promises.


End file.
